


The World Outside These Walls

by mskullgirl



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, F/M, First Love, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:02:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29185224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskullgirl/pseuds/mskullgirl
Summary: You’re acting like an idiot. John thought with irritation. She wants you to call, why else would she have given you her number?That day in detention changed everything for John and Claire but the road ahead is far from easy. As the months pass they learn to trust, and maybe even love, one another.
Relationships: Andrew Clark/Allison Reynolds, John Bender/Claire Standish
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	1. John, March 25, 1984

_ This is ridiculous. _ John thought to himself, glaring at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He was sitting in the kitchen, eyes fixed on his house’s one working phone. His old man was out at the bar and probably wouldn’t return til the wee hours of the morning and his mom was most likely passed out in front of the tv. John could hear the faint sounds of those dumb soaps she liked drifting in from the other room. He sat there and continued to look at the phone.

_ You’re acting like an idiot.  _ He thought with irritation.  _ She wants you to call, why else would she have given you her number? _ John looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand as though it held the answers to the universe. It didn’t, of course, and he ought to know, he’d only been looking at it nonstop since yesterday. He’d found it Saturday night when he was emptying out his coat pockets. God knows when Claire managed to slip it in there without him noticing. The note itself was nothing special, just a string of numbers and a name but it was her number and her name and she had given it to him of all people. 

“Fuck it.” John muttered under his breath and before he could talk himself out of it he picked up the phone and dialed the number he had long since memorized. It rang twice before being picked up, enough time that John started considering just hanging up and forgetting the whole thing. He didn’t do this, call up girls that was. What the hell were they supposed to talk about anyways? 

“Hello?” A familiar, feminine voice asked. John’s heart gave a pathetic little jolt at the sound, much to his annoyance.

“Hey Princess.” He said, trying to sound cool and collected and not like he was completely freaking out. 

“John?” Claire asked with what sounded like genuine delight. John forced down a sigh of relief. He had half expected Claire to laugh at him and hang up so the night was already going better than anticipated. 

“You expecting to hear from someone else?” He asked, slipping back into his usual, couldn’t-care-less persona. 

“I just wasn’t sure you would actually call.” Claire said, sounding mildly surprised. Okay, John supposed he deserved that. 

“Guess I know where I stand.” He said dryly.

“I’m glad you did though.” Claire continued quickly. She sounded slightly embarrassed. “Call, I mean.” John wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He was not used to dealing with this, or really any, level of sincerity. But Claire was full of surprises. John took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

“So,” He asked jokingly. “What are you wearing?”

* * *

When John next looked up at the clock he was surprised to see that two hours had gone by. His and Claire’s conversation had been a little stilted at first but they quickly found a rhythm. They stuck to light stuff mostly, school, music, things like that. The latter topic had led to a fairly intense argument, Claire liked Duran Duran for god's sake. It was… nice, John realized with surprise. He’d never done this before, called up a girl just to talk. His last few “girlfriends” weren’t much for talking on the phone, or talking in general for that matter. 

“I should get out of your hair.” John said with no small amount of reluctance. “It’s a school night and I know you need your beauty sleep.” 

“Are you going to be in school tomorrow?” Claire asked curiously. It was a valid question; John tended to view going to school as more of a suggestion than a necessity. Truthfully, he hadn’t been planning on going in on Monday. His old man had been in rare form on Saturday night and John had the bruised ribs to prove it. But if Claire was there...

“Are you going to acknowledge my existence?” He asked, rather than answering her question.

“Why,” Claire challenged teasingly. “Are you gonna walk me to class and help me carry my books?” The very thought made John grimace.

“If you expect me to do any of that crap you’re in for one hell of a disappointment.” He said, idly picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. 

“How about sitting with me at lunch?” Claire asked and John could hear a smile in her voice. “Think you can manage that?”

_ How the hell did this become my life?  _ He thought. Here he was in his dingy, smoke stained kitchen making lunch plans with a girl who wore real diamond earrings and drove a BMW to school. John impulsively reached up and touched the diamond stud in his ear, as he had done countless times over the last 24 hours. 

“Yeah,” He said at last. “I think I can work something out.” 


	2. Claire, March 26, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John said he’d be at school today. Claire told herself firmly. That means you have to go.

Going to school on Monday morning was terrifying, to put it mildly. When Claire’s alarm went off at 5:30 she seriously considered just hitting snooze and going back to bed. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, tossing and turning for hours after she and John had said goodbye. 

_ John said he’d be at school today.  _ Claire told herself firmly.  _ That means you have to go. _ With a deep sigh she forced herself out of bed. She got dressed and did her makeup automatically, her mind a million miles away. By the time she said goodbye to her father and headed out the door she felt like she was going to puke or cry or both. The drive to school passed in a blur and before she knew it she was pulling into the still mostly empty school parking lot. Looking down at her watch she realized that she’d managed to arrive a full half hour before the first bell. 

_ Fantastic. _ She thought with a groan, pressing her forehead against the steering wheel.  _ Nothing to do but sit here and stew in my own anxiety. As if I haven’t been doing enough of that already.  _

She hated that the thought of confronting her friends made her this nervous, hated what that said about her. Maybe John had been right and she really was a bitch. 

Claire was drawn out of her spiral of self-loathing by a tap on the window. She looked up and saw Allison staring at her with her dark, perceptive eyes. She looked good, Claire realized. The baggy black clothes were back but her hair looked like she'd actually run a brush through it and her bangs were pulled away from her face. Allison gestured for her to roll down the window, and Claire reluctantly complied.

“Are you ignoring us today?” The dark-haired girl asked, straight to the point as always. The bluntness of the comment startled a laugh out of Claire.

“No.” She said, the tension in her shoulders loosening slightly. Allison nodded thoughtfully.

“Are you gonna get out of the car?” Claire frowned.

“Do I have to?” Rolling her eyes, Allison reached through the window and unlocked the car door.

“Come on.” She said with a huff. “I’ll let you do my makeup again. I tried to copy what you did this morning but I ended up looking like a clown.” Claire took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Her head held high, she walked toward the school, immeasurably grateful that Allison was by her side. 

The morning more or less went by without a hitch, but Claire knew lunch would be the real test. John had agreed to sit with her (more or less) in just about the most public place in the school. There was no going back from that. But Claire had suggested it, he had said yes, and here they were. Taking a deep, calming breath, Claire pushed open the cafeteria doors. She spotted her friends immediately in their usual spot right in the center of the room. John’s crowd, she knew, usually sat in the very back. Where the rest of the group from detention was she couldn’t say.

At last her eyes fell upon a familiar head of brown hair. Sitting at an otherwise empty table, his feet kicked up casually on the seat beside him was John. Once again, he didn’t appear to have lunch, something Claire couldn’t help but find concerning. Steeling herself, she made her way across the crowded hall and over to where he sat. She was able to pinpoint the exact moment he saw her, his eyes locking with hers as she drew nearer to him.

“Is this seat taken?” She asked primly, gesturing at the seat across which his long legs were currently splayed. God that sounded idiotic, but she honestly could think of anything better to say. Claire figured “Hey, I’ve been thinking about kissing you for the past 48 hours. Thoughts?” wasn’t going to fly in this situation.

“If I say no, will you sit on my lap?” John asked, a challenging grin of his face. Claire rolled her eyes and, shoving his legs aside, took a seat.

“Impressive.” She deadpanned, setting her lunch bag down on the table in front of her. “We’ve been talking for five seconds and already you’re being an asshole.”

“I’m afraid that’s just my personality, sweets.” John said with his usual smug smirk. “Figured you’d be used to it by now.” Claire gave him a look.

“You take a lot of getting used to.” John was grinning at her openly now, obviously happy to see her even if he didn’t say as much. As always, that smile made her melt. Claire was very aware of all the eyes on her but she couldn’t bring herself to care, not when John was looking at her like that.

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” He asked, still smiling. Claire shrugged and began taking out her lunch.

“It’s an observation.” Just then, a truly massive lunch bag landed on the table next to Claire. She looked up and found herself staring into Andy’s grinning face. Allison stood beside him, one of her hands shyly grasping his. It was really very sweet, Claire had to admit.

“So this is where you losers were hiding.” Andy said with a grin, taking a seat next to Claire. 

“Not exactly hiding.” Allison interjected, sitting in the chair to Andy’s left. “It’s not like they were out lighting up under the bleachers.”

“Yeah, why is that exactly?” John asked, turning to Claire with one eyebrow raised. “You were the one who issued this invite.”

“Because I have to eat, that’s why.” She said defensively. “And I’d rather do so inside, not standing around in the snow.” 

“Duly noted.” John said dryly just as Brian appeared to his left.

“Wow, you’re all sitting here huh?” The scrawny boy asked, looking surprised but pleased.

“Certainly seems that way, Big Bri.” John said dryly. “Got any more crustless PB&J you’re willing to part with?” Brian shook his head.

“Nope. Egg salad today.” He said, sliding into the nearest open seat. “I’ve got some carrot sticks though, if you want.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds.” John deadpanned but he accepted the ziplock bag of carrots all the same. Claire made a mental note to “accidentally” bring too much food with her tomorrow for lunch. Tomorrow at lunch, wasn’t that a thought? Impulsively, she reached out and grabbed John’s unoccupied hand where it rested on his knee. He gave her a questioning look, poised to take a bite out of a carrot stick, but he didn’t pull away. Claire counted that as a win. A few minutes later, as the conversation continued around them, Claire felt him interface their fingers and give her hand a soft squeeze.


	3. John, March 26, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can call me tonight if you want to.” Claire said at last, her pale cheeks ever so slightly flushed. It was kind of cute actually, seeing her all flustered.  
> “Oh I can, can I?” John asked sarcastically.

That first day back at school seemed like something out of a dream. True to her word, Claire had met John for lunch, along with the rest of the so-called “Breakfast Club” (John really needed to talk to Brainiac about that name). It had been nice, strangely enough, and actually eating something at lunch time was a welcome change of pace. In addition to Brainiac's bag of carrot sticks, Basketcase had offered him the bologna out of her sandwich. John knew that if he didn’t accept it, the slice of meat would just end up in the garbage or possibly stuck to the ceiling so he swallowed his pride and accepted the offering. Not exactly a nutritious lunch, but it was more than he was used to and he wasn’t about to complain. 

John and Claire didn’t get much of a chance to talk alone until the final bell rang. When John walked out of Shop, his final class of the day, she was waiting by his locker, arms full of books and a playful expression on her face. He couldn’t stop the broad grin that spread across his face when they locked eyes.

“You lost?” He asked teasingly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nope.” She said, smiling up at him in a way that made his chest feel tight. “Walk me to my car?”

“If the lady insists.” As they set off down the hall together John was struck by the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, the biggest fuck up in the school, walking side by side with Claire fucking Standish. He was distinctly aware of the number of people watching them as they walked past, the whispers that followed them through the hallway. Claire, to her credit, didn't seem bothered, just held her head high and continued on her way.  _ Good for her.  _ John thought with grudging respect.

By the time they reached her car, a fucking BMW of all things, they were more or less alone, although a few curious stragglers passed by on their way to their own cars. There was an awkward moment where they both stood looking at each other, neither of them quite sure what to say. John awkwardly stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat both for something to do and as a futile attempt to stave off the still bitter cold. 

“You can call me tonight if you want to.” Claire said at last, her pale cheeks ever so slightly flushed. It was kind of cute actually, seeing her all flustered. 

“Oh I can, can I?” John asked sarcastically. Claire shrugged.

“Well I figured you wouldn’t want me to call you, you know, considering…” She bit her lip, letting the sentence trail off. She had a point; the last thing John wanted was for her to call and his fucking dad to pick up the phone. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

“Maybe I will.” John said at last, already knowing that he would. He had only known Claire for two days and he was already willing to do just about anything to keep her smiling at him like that. Not that he would let her know that, of course.

“Good.” Claire said with a satisfied nod, still flushed that pretty shade of pink.

“Good.” John repeated. Claire cocked her head to the side, as though considering something before, with a determined look in her eyes, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. It wasn’t anything heated, just a chaste touch of lips but it took John completely by surprise. By the time his brain caught up enough for him to kiss her back she was pulling away, and climbing into her car.

“See you tomorrow?” Claire asked hopefully, her skin flushed even redder than before.

“Yeah,” John said, once he’s regained the ability to form words. “See ya then.” He watched as she once again drove away from him, eventually disappearing down a side street. He knew this thing between them was temporary, just a way for Claire to indulge her newly discovered rebellious streak and maybe screw with her parents in the process. Sooner or later, slumming it with a loser like him would lose its appeal and she’d move on to someone who was actually suited to her, someone she could go to prom with and bring home to meet her folks. And still, John was willing to go along with it, willing to take whatever scraps she saw fit to give him. He was going to end up hurt in the end, he knew that, but for right now at least, she wanted him, really wanted him in a way John had never been wanted in his life. That was more than enough for him.


	4. Claire, March 29, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So Allison’s parents are gonna be gone next weekend.” Claire said casually.  
> “She and Sporto planning on christening every surface in the house while they're gone?” John asked, exhaling smoke casually through his mouth.

“So Allison’s parents are gonna be gone next weekend.” Claire said casually. She and John were sitting on the bleachers during the second half of lunch period, him smoking, her painting her nails. Brian had a math club meeting and Andy and Allison were probably off making out somewhere so it was just the two of them. Technically speaking, Claire had a student council meeting but she had blown it off in favor of spending time with John. She hadn’t mentioned that part; the last thing he needed was an ego boost. 

“She and Sporto planning on christening every surface in the house while they're gone?” John asked, exhaling smoke casually through his mouth. Smoking was a disgusting habit, Claire knew that, but she couldn’t help watching with fascination every time John lit up a cigarette. There was something hypnotic about watching the smoke spill from between his lips and disappear into the winter air.

“Actually,” she said, shooting him a disapproving look. “She was thinking of having a movie night. You know, the five of us. Could be fun.” John raised a dark eyebrow at her.

“Very subtle, Red.” He teased. “I take it this is your version of an invitation?”

“Well if you’re gonna be an ass about it…” Claire huffed, bringing one hand up to her face so she could blow on her still wet nails. They were red this time, as opposed to her usual pink. She figured it was high time she tried something new. John held up his hands defensively.

“I didn’t say no.” 

“So you’ll come?”

“I didn’t say that either.” Claire turned and fixed him with a withering look.

“John…” 

“Okay, okay I’ll go.” He relented, rolling his eyes towards the sky. “No need to get your panties in a twist.” Claire screwed up her face in mostly feigned revulsion.

“You’re disgusting.” John shrugged, not bothering to defend himself.

“Hey, a couple hours sitting next to you in a mostly dark room.” He said with a devious smirk. “I can think of worse ways to spend an evening.” Claire scowled at him. 

“Don’t you start getting ideas.” She said, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. “We’re going to be in a room with our friends.” 

“And if we weren’t?” John challenged. Claire could have brushed it off, called him gross and immature and let it drop. But she was curious, just as curious as she’d been in detention when she’d seen him rolling a joint. 

When they started seeing each other Claire was fully prepared to be pounced on at every available opportunity, pulled into closets and empty classrooms on a regular basis. In fact, a small part of her had looked forward to the attention. But the last week had been almost ridiculously tame. They’d kissed a few times, closed mouthed, a few seconds max at a time, and occasionally John would swing his arm over her shoulders as they walked down the hall together but that was more or less it as far as physical contact went. Claire didn’t expect John to be particularly excited about the idea of holding hands or, good forbid, slipping their hands in each other’s back pockets. That was fine by her, she found public displays of affection kind of gross honestly. But she had yet to really see how he acted in private, when it was just the two of them. Claire pulled herself out of her musings, returning her focus to John. He was looking at her questioningly, probably waiting for her to tell him to go to hell. 

“I don’t know.” Claire said instead, a flirtatious expression on her face. “Take me on a date, alone and find out.” With a final wink in his direction, she gathered up her bag and walked off towards the main building, giddy at the idea that she had left John Bender in stunned silence.


	5. John, March 30, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire was actually trying to kill him, John was convinced of it. First she’d dropped that fucking “take me on a date” bombshell on him then she flounced off without giving him a second to respond. So she wanted to play dirty? Fine, John could play dirty.

Claire was actually trying to kill him, John was convinced of it. First she’d dropped that fucking “take me on a date” bombshell on him then she flounced off without giving him a second to respond. John spent the rest of Thursday thinking about her words, not to mention that fucking wink. He’d been forcing himself to keep things PG, painfully aware of the fact that this was all new to Claire. John seriously questioned whether she had even kissed a boy before she met him. And yeah, he teased her about going further, but that was all it was, teasing. The thought of actually following through on his suggestions and making Claire uncomfortable was not a pleasant one. 

None of that was to say John didn’t want more. Of course he wanted more; who wouldn’t in his position? Hell, just looking at Claire was enough to get him going. She somehow managed to make the most mundane things look intensely erotic; John damn near had a heart attack watching her bend down to pick up a pencil. And then she had to go and make everything worse with her “take me on a date alone and find out.”

So she wanted to play dirty? Fine, John could play dirty. He remembered Claire’s expression that day in detention when he was interrogating her about her sex life, how she pupils dilated and her breathing became more ragged. At the time he had taken it for horror, or embarrassment but looking back he realized it was something else. She’d been turned on, by his words. He could definitely work with that.

John made his move the moment Claire walked into school Friday morning. He walked right up to her and without so much as a “hello” steered her into the nearest vacant space, which turned out to be a closet. Stunned, Claire followed his lead at first but by the time the door fell shut behind them she looked seriously pissed off. 

“What the hell, John!” She whispered harshly.. “We have-”

Before she could ever finish the sentence John took her face in his hands and kissed her, the way he’d been wanting to kiss her since that first Saturday in detention. This was no shy little kiss goodbye; this was deep and dirty and thorough. Claire tensed at first and John was briefly worried that she would pull away and possibly even smack him for his actions. Instead, much to his delight, she fucking melted into the contact. He felt her arms circle around his neck and a moment later her lips parted against his in silent invitation. John was happy to oblige and slowly let his tongue trace the seam of her mouth. He hadn’t been prepared for the moan that tore from her lips or the way she pressed her body needily against his. They were so, so close now, just the thin fabric of their clothes separating them and John couldn’t help but pull her even closer. 

He’d meant it to be a short kiss, just enough to make Claire think twice about teasing him in the future but now that he was here, now that he could taste the faint sweetness of her lips and feel the warmth of her skin he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. John wanted to stay there, wrapped in her embrace for the rest of the day or possibly even the rest of his life. Unfortunately, the first bell was going to ring any minute and he knew Claire would be pissed if he made her late to class. It took a truly remarkable amount of self-restraint but John managed to pull away enough to look her in the eye. She was looking at him with a raw, vulnerable expression on her face, her eyes so dark they looked almost black. That was almost enough to make John kiss her again but somehow he managed to control himself.

“Go on a date with me.” He said, slightly embarrassed at how rough his voice sounded. “Tonight.” Claire blinked at him in confusion for a moment.

“Is that a request or a demand?” She asked, still looked slightly dazed. 

“Why?” He asked, unable to restrain his smirk. “You planning on making me beg?” Even in the darkness of the closet John could see the way that question made her cheeks redden. 

“No!” Claire said quickly, clearly flustered. “I mean, no I won’t make you beg not no to the date.” 

“So is that a yes?” She bit her bottom lip, something that never failed to drive John wild.

“Yes.”

“Good.” John said shortly, pulling away completely and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll call you after school to work out the details.” He opened the door with a flourish, blinking as he attempted to readjust to the light. “Oh, and Claire?” John continued, glancing back at her over his shoulder. She looked an absolute mess; her hair rumpled and her lips kiss-swollen and smeared with lipstick. “I’d consider touching up your lipstick before you head to class. Just a suggestion.” With that, he hurried out the door and disappeared into the throng of students making their way to class just as the first bell rang.


	6. Claire, March 30, 1984

True to his word, John had called Claire that afternoon to make plans. After much debate, they decided to see a movie, compromising on some B list horror flick. Soon after she hung up the phone Claire began her extensive “getting ready” routine which included taking a shower, shaving her legs, and curling her hair. Afterwards she spent a good half-hour standing in front of her closet trying to decide what to wear. With no small amount of embarrassment, she selected and put on a lacy white bra and matching panties. She didn’t plan on John actually seeing them, not on a first date anyways, but on the off chance they got that far she wanted to be prepared. Claire considered jeans but when she put them on all she could think about was John’s “Calvins in a ball on the front seat” remark. Blushing deeply, she set them aside. She eventually settled on a loose sweater and a black mini-skirt, not too conservative but not overly suggestive. 

Just as she was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, a car horn sounded from somewhere outside. Claire quickly slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse, yelled a quick goodbye to her parents and hurried out the door. John was waiting for her at the end of the driveway, casually leaning against a car so old and dingy it looked like it was on the verge of breaking down. It was a far cry from the expensive vehicles Claire was used to but she didn’t mind. John could have shown up in a garbage truck for all she cared so long as they got to spend time together.

Claire wasn’t sure what came over her but the second she slid into the passenger’s seat and John smiled at her in that teasing way of his she decided to forgo their plans for the evening. She had John to herself for the first time in days and she planned to take full advantage. 

“Do you really want to see that movie?” She asked coyly, hoping John would take the hint. Unfortunately for her, he seemed oblivious.

“We’ve been over this sweets,” He said casually, smacking the car radio until it started playing something other than static. “I’m not going to watch that stupid rom com.”

“No, I meant.” Claire bit her bottom lip. “We could always just skip it.” John fixed her with a searching look. 

“You having second thoughts?” He asked. Although he was playing it cool Claire could hear a hint of anxiety in his voice. Claire shook her head, fidgeting in her seat. 

“Come on, don’t make me say it.” John continued staring at her, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Cherry, I honestly have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“We could just drive somewhere out of the way and, you know…” Claire could feel herself blushing and she hoped it was dark enough that John wouldn’t notice. She refused to meet his eyes, her gaze fixed on her lap.

“Oh.” He said after a long second of silence. 

“We don’t have to.” Claire added quickly, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’m saying, we can just go see the movie.”

“Fuck the movie.” John scoffed, putting the car in drive. “You want to mess around and I’m sure as shit not gonna say no.” Luckily for Claire, the drive was short. John was clearly just as eager as she was because the second he found a secluded back road he pulled over and killed the engine. It had been a bit awkward after that; John pointed out that it would probably be easier to move around in the back seat and that thought alone almost made Claire want to call the whole thing off.

“I’ll be on my best behavior, swear to god.” He said, dramatically crossing himself. “I just don’t want to have to lean over the console to get to you.” Over the next several minutes John stayed true to his word and kept his hands firmly on Claire’s waist. She had half expected him to jump her but like that day after detention his movements were cautious, as if he was expecting her to pull away at any second. 

Part of Claire was relieved that John was willing to go at her pace. She had absolutely no clue what she was doing and he knew it. Another, small part of her was still thinking about those girl’s pictures in John’s wallet. Claire doubted he had kissed any of them like he was kissing her now. He wouldn’t have treated those girls like they were made of glass. The thought filled Claire with jealousy although she did her best to ignore it. She and John barely knew each other before Saturday detention so she could hardly hold the fact he had slept around against him. Even now she had no claim on him, it wasn’t like he had asked her to go steady. For all she knew John was making out with half the town in addition to her. 

Claire was drawn out of her thoughts by the feeling of fingers creeping under her shirt and brushing against the bare skin of her side. She let out an involuntary squeak, more taken aback by how cold those fingers had felt then by the gesture itself. John quickly pulled his hand away, breaking away from the kiss so he could look her in the eye.

“Okay?” He asked, his voice slightly cautious. 

“Fine.” Claire replied quickly. “Your hands are cold, that’s all. I was surprised.” John didn’t quite look like he believed her but she pulled him back into a kiss before he could say anything else. Slowly, Claire felt his hand move up her body until his fingers brushed the underside of her bra. She felt John hesitate for a moment, giving her an out which she did not take before finally reaching out and laying his hand on top of her breast. He pulled away from a second, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Lace?” He inquired, voice ever so slightly lower than usual. “Planning on getting lucky tonight?” If Claire had been blushing before, she was as red as a tomato now.

“Shut up.” She muttered, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth. At first she felt vaguely underwhelmed by this new development in their relationship. It felt nice enough, she supposed, and the taboo nature of the act was certainly doing something for her. Still it mostly just felt like John was touching any other part of her body, just the slight pressure of his hand and the warmth of his skin. And then, just as she was starting to think her friends had been exaggerating when they talked about what it was like to get felt up, he brushed his thumb ever so gently against her nipple through the lace fabric of her bra. The movement sent a shock of pleasure down her spine and Claire let out an involuntary sound of surprise. 

“Yeah?” John asked, repeating the movement again, pressing a kiss to the hollow behind her ear as he did so. Claire could only nod in response, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer. He seemed more than happy to oblige, his unoccupied hand moving to rest on her lower back as he pulled her against his chest. God, but he felt good pressed up against her like that, the warmth of his body seeping through the fabric of his shirt and warming her from the inside out. Claire wasn’t quite sure how it happened but the next thing she knew her shirt was being yanked over her head and John was looking down at her, eyes roaming hungrily over her lace covered skin. She shivered slightly under his gaze, moving to cross her arms over her chest only to feel a firm hand on her wrist.

“Don’t.” He said forcefully, his intense brown eyes meeting hers. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, believe me, not when you’re sitting there looking like a fucking wet dream.” Claire scowled slightly at the crude phrasing but she relented and let her arms fall to her sides. The moment she did so John was all over her, his mouth moving hungrily against hers and his hands roaming all over her body as if he couldn’t decide where he most wanted to touch her. 

_ I can’t believe this is happening to me. _ Claire thought even as she pressed herself into his touch.  _ If someone told me two weeks ago that I would be getting felt up by John Bender in the back seat of a car I would have laughed in their face. _ But somehow that was what was happening. Even more surprisingly, Claire found she liked it. She liked the way John’s hands felt on her skin, liked the way his teeth grazed her neck slightly as he kissed her there, liked the way his eyes had darkened when he first saw her shirtless. Suddenly Claire wanted nothing more than to feel his bare skin against hers, to be able to look at John that way he was looking at her. Hands shaking slightly with anticipation, she reached out and tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“Can you take this off?” She asked, surprised at how wrecked her own voice sounded. They were barely doing anything and she felt like she was about to burst into flames. To Claire’s surprise, rather than gleefully stripping his shirt off John tensed ever so slightly against her, his hands temporarily still. He tried to play it off but she had already noticed his hesitation.

“You don’t want me to do that princess.” John said dismissively, leaning in to kiss her again. 

“Don’t tell me what I want.” Claire huffed, holding out her hand to stop him. “What, you can see me but I’m not allowed to see you?”

“Cherry, seriously, just drop it.” 

“No, I want to know what you deal is.” With a groan of frustration John pulled away, leaving Claire shivering against the sudden chill of the air.

“There’s no deal, Cherry, so why don’t you back the fuck off.” He said irritably. 

“Goddamn it John I just want to see you!” Claire snapped. “Is that so much to ask?” With a growl of frustration, John took hold of one of her hands and harshly pulled it under his shirt until her palm was spread across his back. Claire made a soft noise of surprise when she felt a patch of rough skin under her fingertips. Curiously, she let her fingers trace over his side, trying to understand what she was feeling. In some places his skin felt smooth yet in others it felt puckered and leathery. Her fingers followed the rough areas to the middle of John’s back where they seemed to converge and intersect. She felt his muscles tense beneath her hands and heard his breathing turn shallow and forceful. Claire’s eyes widened in realization as she at last made the connection between the circular scar on John’s forearm and the damaged expanse of his back. Scars; his back was absolutely covered with scars.

“John…” she said helplessly, her voice breaking and a lump growing in her throat. John shrugged her hand off, plucking her forgotten shirt from the floor and holding it out to her.

“Just don’t.” He said bitterly. “You understand why I didn’t want you to see that mess now? Fuck!” He let his head fall back against the seat with a bang, eyes resolutely fixed on the ceiling. 

“John, I’m so sorry.” Claire said at last, the words sticking in her throat. 

“Forget it.” John replied tersely, running a hand through his hair. “It’s late and I have a hot date with Vernon tomorrow morning. Let’s just go.” He moved to climb into the front seat but Claire stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asked. She cringed internally at the idiotic question. Things were obviously far from okay.

“Peachy.” John said shortly, not meeting her eyes. Claire frowned.

“Let me rephrase that; are  _ we _ okay?” John gave her an incredulous look.

“We?”

“Yeah.” Claire said with as much determination as she could muster. “We. I don’t take off my shirt for just anyone so I’m gonna be pretty pissed if you stop talking to me.” That startled a laugh out of John, although it sounded off, almost sad.

“You’ve got it backwards, sweets.” He said, breaking eye contact once again. “You’d be the one kicking me to the curb in this situation.” Claire blinked at him, uncomprehending. 

“You think I’m gonna stop hanging out with you?” Claire asked with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “Over this? Jesus, John, I’m glad to know you think so highly of me!”

“Oh, don’t give me that!” John snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “I saw you in detention, remember? You couldn’t even look at my fucking arm and that’s nothing compared to some of the other shit I’ve got covered up. What the hell was I supposed to think? That you wouldn’t care?”

“Of course I care!” Claire exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Of course it fucking bothers me to see you hurt, is that so hard to believe? That doesn’t mean I don’t…” she bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you.” It freaked her out, admitting that to John but it was the truth. She’d wanted him from the moment he first called her “sweets”, wanted him so desperately it almost scared her. John was suspiciously quiet following Claire’s outburst and, feeling like a complete idiot, she hurriedly tugged her shirt back on.

“Why?” He finally asked, voice soft and unsure. Claire shrugged awkwardly, scuffing the sole of her shoe against the floor. 

“I don’t know. But I do know that nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do. Not even close.” They were silent for a moment, not looking at each other despite their close proximity.

“You know, you don’t have to sweet talk me.” John said at last, some of his usual humor finally returning. “I’m pretty much a sure thing at this point.” Claire rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove.

“Obviously not. I wore this stupid itchy bra for you and you still wouldn’t put out.” They dissolve into a fit of giggles laughing so hard their sides hurt just like that day in detention. In the midst of it Claire feels his hand brush hers and she tentatively, gratefully, laces their fingers together.


	7. John, March 30, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s your favorite movie?” Claire asked midway through the film, reaching over to grab a handful of popcorn. She’d gotten the biggest container they had and then insisted she couldn’t finish it all on her own. Claire wasn’t exactly subtle about pushing food on John but He wasn’t going to complain. Free food was free food. 
> 
> “What?” John asked, momentarily distracted from throwing popcorn in the air and catching it in his mouth. Claire thought it was annoying which only made him do it more.
> 
> “Come on, I wanna know.” She said, nudging him slightly with her shoulder.
> 
> “What’s yours?”
> 
> “I asked you first.”
> 
> “I asked you second.”

They’d ended up going to the movies after all, albeit later than they had expected. John called in a favor with his friend Ste who worked at the theater, and consequently he and Claire managed to sneak in through the back without paying. The two of them settled on the new Friday the 13th movie although neither one paid much attention to the plot. That suited John just fine; he was more than happy to sit in the back and whisper back and forth, much to the other movie-goer’s annoyance.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Claire asked midway through the film, reaching over to grab a handful of popcorn. She’d gotten the biggest container they had and then insisted she couldn’t finish it all on her own. Claire wasn’t exactly subtle about pushing food on John but He wasn’t going to complain. Free food was free food. 

“What?” John asked, momentarily distracted from throwing popcorn in the air and catching it in his mouth. Claire thought it was annoying which only made him do it more.

“Come on, I wanna know.” She said, nudging him slightly with her shoulder.

“What’s yours?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.” Claire paused for a moment, considering.

“The Princess Bride.” John couldn’t contain his laugh, drawing a few dirty looks from the other movie-goers. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Face flushed with embarrassment, Claire playfully smacked him on the arm.

“Screw you, I like happy endings so what?” John wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

“Maybe you just like the idea of having your innocence corrupted by a pirate with a heart of gold.”

“Aha!” Claire cried triumphantly and was promptly shushed by the older couple sitting in front of them. She winced slightly in embarrassment, lowering her voice. “So you have watched it!”

“‘Course I watched it!” John said flippantly. “I’ll watch anything where Andre the Giant beats the shit out of people.” Although he would never admit it, especially to Sporto, John loved professional wrestling. He could spend hours camped out in front of the tv watching a match. So yeah, he’d seen the stupid Princess Bride. Claire huffed in annoyance and helped herself to another handful of popcorn. 

“Okay, I answered the question. Your turn.” John seriously considered that for a moment before fixing her with a mischievous smile.

“Grease.” She regarded him, looking distinctly unamused.

“You’re kidding.” 

“What can I say?” John shrugged, adopting a high, lilting voice. “John Travolta is like, totally dreamy!” That drew a giggle out of Claire and another annoyed “sush!” from their neighbors. John flipped them off the second they turned away.

“You just like seeing Olivia Newton-John in those tight leather pants.” Claire whispered accusingly. Again, John shrugged. 

“It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.” Now Claire in those leather pants, that was a thought worth revisiting, ideally either in the shower or in bed. John’s thoughts must have shown on his face because Claire wrinkled her nose at him.

“God, you really do have a one-track mind.”

“Right, and you don’t?” That pretty flush returned, dusting her pale cheeks with red. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She said primly. Unable to resist messing with her, John leans over so that his lips are just brushing her ear.

“I know you wore that lacy little number for a reason and it sure as shit wasn’t comfort.” He still couldn’t quite believe Claire had let him get to second base, and on a first date no less. Claire attempted to smack him again only this time she misjudged the distance between her hand and his shoulder and ended up knocking the popcorn bucket right out of his hands. What remained of the popcorn went flying and ultimately landed on the already annoyed couple in front of them.

“Crap.” Claire whispered frozen in horror. John made the executive decision to grab her hand and run for the exit. 

* * *

It was still relatively early when they left the theater. After walking around aimlessly for a bit Claire suggested they get something to eat. 

“My treat.” She added, before John could object. “You drove us so it’s only fair.” The fact that he couldn’t have paid if he wanted to went unspoken. They ended up in a mostly empty Denny’s, much to John’s relief. He didn’t know what he would have done if Claire wanted to go to some ritzy, expensive joint. 

“Excited for your date with Vernon tomorrow?” She asked teasingly once they’d ordered and had their coffee mugs filled. 

“Thrilled beyond measure.” John deadpanned. He was in the middle of attempting to make a tower out of sugar packets. It was not a particularly successful endeavor. “And I won’t even have you there to keep me company.”

“You’ll survive.” Claire said dryly, taking a sip of her sweetened coffee. “I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have just kept your mouth shut.” John grimaced slightly; he had certainly heard that before. There had been one particularly memorable occasion when he was around eight years old. He’d been sitting in the bathroom, his lip newly busted and bleeding all over his shirt. 

“Why’d ya have to provoke him, Johnny?” His mom had asked, dabbing at his lip with a wet cloth. “You know better than to talk back like that.” John hadn’t responded, eyes fixed on the slowly expanding red stain on the front of his shirt. He’d liked that shirt; it had a picture of Batman on it and now it was probably ruined. All because he’d been a smartass and talked back to his dad.

“Guess I’m just talented.” John said vaguely, letting his half-assed tower collapse. Claire looked at him with an odd, pinched expression on her face as though she knew exactly what he was remembering. Thankfully, their food arrived before she could say anything else. John had never been so happy to see a cheeseburger and he proceeded to dig in. Claire, who had ordered a salad, was staring at him with a mixture or disbelief and disgust. 

“What?” John asked defensively between bites. She wrinkled her nose at him, daintily picking at her own food. 

“Your table manners are atrocious.” 

“Oh, give me a break!” John said, rolling his eyes. “There’s no neat way to eat a burger. Don’t tell me you eat everything with chopsticks.” Claire flipped him off in that weird pristine way of hers. John was annoyed at himself for finding the gesture sort of hot.

“I’m using a fork right now, asshole.” 

“Yeah, and you’re using it to eat rabbit food. Is that all you eat? Raw fish and lettuce?” To John’s surprise, rather than making some snarky comment back at him, Claire stayed quiet. She looked down at her plate muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

“What’d you say?” He asked, straining to hear her.

“I said I’m on a diet, alright?” She snapped, looking up to glare at him. “So if you’d just shut up about what I eat that would be great.” John blinked at her, uncomprehending. The idea of diets always mystified him; why on earth would you choose to starve yourself when you could afford to go out and buy food? He’d certainly never had that luxury. Not that Claire needed to diet anyways.

“What for?” He asked incredulously. “You’re what, a buck twenty soaking wet?” Claire glared at him, her jaw tightly clenched.

“Well sure, but Claire’s a fat girl’s name right?” She said, her voice acidic. “In a few years I might start really pushing maximum density.” Ah. That certainly explained a lot.

“You’re still bent out of shape about that, huh?” John asked somewhat sheepishly. Again, Claire’s eyes dropped to the plate in front of her. She didn’t look angry anymore, just upset.

“Look, let’s just drop it alright?” She said, fingers tapping nervously against the tabletop. Instinctively, John reached out and placed his hand over hers. The tapping stopped but she still wouldn’t look up at him. For a terrifying moment John was worried she might start crying. He was in no way equipped to deal with that. Fuck, he’d really screwed up this time and he didn’t even have an excuse for his shitty behavior.

“Cherry, you’re not fat.” He said as sincerely as possible. “Not even close. Forget about that shit I said in detention, alright? I was just being an ass to you ‘cause I wanted to get your attention.” That was far more emotional honesty that John was comfortable with but he figured he owed it to Claire after the way he’d acted. In any case, it seemed to work since Claire finally met his eyes, a slight smile on her lips.

“You already had it, you jackass.” She said, turning her palm over so she could lace their fingers together. “And in that case, I’m stealing some of your fries.”


	8. Claire, April 4, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Going my way, doll?” John called loudly as she got out of the car, completely ignoring the curious glares of their fellow classmates. Claire sighed in annoyance, shutting her car door. John had been trying out new nicknames for her lately, each more ridiculous than the last, for no other reason than to annoy her.

As it turned out, Claire really liked making out. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; people did it for a reason after all. Still, up until recently, Claire’s knowledge on the subject had been mostly theoretical. 

_ Not anymore. _ She thought, blushing as she remembered that first heated kiss in the closet. Ever since their date on Friday Claire had been unable to keep her hands to herself. She could barely stand to be in the same room as John without wanting to drag him away and kiss him senseless. Luckily for her, he was always more than happy to oblige. Over the last few days that had made out from behind the bleachers, in the janitor’s closet, really in any available space. It was exciting, breaking the rules like that. 

_ What exactly are we doing anyways?  _ Claire thought as she drove to school Wednesday morning. By that point it was clear whatever she and John were doing went beyond a casual fling, at least for her. John, on the other hand, was a complete mystery. They spent an awful lot of time together, they went on dates and kissed all the fucking time but Claire had absolutely no idea what she meant to him. John liked her, she knew that, liked her as something other than a future picture for his collection. As far as Claire knew he wasn’t currently “considering” anyone else but, then again, he didn’t tell her everything. She certainly wasn’t seeing anyone other than him; who could compare?

John was waiting for her in the parking lot as he often did these days, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. As always, the sight of him made Claire’s heart do a funny little flip. It was odd; before they’d gotten together Claire wouldn’t have considered John her type. Generally she went for blonde-haired blue-eyed preppy types, the kind of guys who went to the same country club as her parents, drove Ferrari’s and knew how to play polo. John was the polar opposite of those guys in pretty much every way; his hair was dark and far too long, he dressed like a cross between a rockstar and a hobo, and to top it all off he wore not one but two earrings in his left ear. Despite, or maybe because of, those things, there had always been something intriguing about John Bender and the more time they spent together the more interested Claire became.

“Going my way, doll?” John called loudly as she got out of the car, completely ignoring the curious glares of their fellow classmates. Claire sighed in annoyance, shutting her car door. John had been trying out new nicknames for her lately, each more ridiculous than the last, for no other reason than to annoy her. Over the past few days Claire had been called everything from “toots” to “sugar-butt”, much to her irritation. She’d been trying to get back at John but the nicknames she came up with didn’t seem to bother him. Then again, she hadn’t been as creative.

“Depends.” She said coyly as she made her way over to where John was standing. “You actually going to class today or hiding out under the bleachers getting stoned?” Claire had become well acquainted with the space beneath the bleachers over the past few days. In addition to being one of the school’s main makeout spots it was a popular place to get high and thus a favorite hangout spot for John and his friends. 

“Well I was actually planning on stopping by Carl’s utility closet.” John said suggestively. “Care to join me?” Claire bit her lip and considered the offer. It was tempting, certainly, but she’d already missed one class that week and as well as her last detention had turned out she wasn’t exactly eager for a repeat. 

“I really have to go to class.” She said reluctantly. “But I have a free period right after lunch.” John smirked at her and that did absolutely nothing for her resolve.

“I’ll have my secretary pencil you in, shall I?” He teased, leaning over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He was joking, Claire knew that, but the thought of John seeing her as an appointment or an obligation annoyed her. 

“Well if you can make room in your busy schedule.” She said with a huff, walking in the direction of the school. She’d barely made it two steps before John was in front of her again, blocking her path. 

“What’s your problem?” He asked, looking genuinely confused. 

“I don’t have a problem.” Claire said stiffly. “Now can I go to class?” John stood his ground, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Obviously I did something to piss you off.” Claire gave him an unimpressed look. 

“You always piss me off.”

“Yeah, but usually I do it on purpose.” Claire had to laugh at that. She’d discovered over the last few weeks that she had a hard time staying mad at John. Even when he was being a pain in the ass he managed to make her laugh. 

“It’s nothing.” She said at last. “Nothing you did anyways. I’m just being an idiot.” John seemed surprised by that explanation, which Claire could understand. She wasn’t exactly known for her humility.

“So you’re not mad at me?” He asked in a surprisingly quiet voice. Claire shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

“Why would I be mad at you when you didn’t do anything?” Something passed across John’s face, so fast Claire almost missed it. She’d gotten much better at reading him in the time they’d been together and she knew that look. It was the same expression John had worn when Andy said he didn’t even count, that his life meant nothing. He was upset but he was trying hard to hide it. Claire just didn’t know why. She tentatively reached out and laid a hand on John’s arm. He didn’t immediately pull away, which was an encouraging sign.

“I’m not gonna freak out and yell at you for no reason.” She said, making sure to look him directly in the eye. “You know that right?” Judging from John’s expression he had not known that. Claire really didn’t like what that fact implied.

“You should get to class.” John said evasively, moving to the side to let her pass. There was something guarded about his expression, as though he was preparing to shut the whole world out. John got like that sometimes, so caught up in his own head he tuned out everything else. Claire knew if she let him walk away now he’d spent the rest of the morning and possibly the whole day hiding and making himself miserable in the process. So she did the only thing she could think of to snap him out of his funk. She pushed up onto her tiptoes and kissed him.

For a moment he didn’t respond, just stood there as if shocked into stillness. Claire didn’t back down. Instead she reached out to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. She tried to pour all her emotions into the kiss, hoping to express how deeply she cared even if she couldn’t put the sentiment into words. 

Suddenly, as though a switch flipped in his brain, John kissed her back. Claire felt his gloved hands reach up and tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. As always, the gesture made something in Claire’s chest feel all warm and gooey. No matter how many times they did this his touch always made her heart race. With extreme reluctance she broke away, her breathing slightly ragged. John was looking at her with an undecipherable expression on his face but the closed-off look from before was gone. 

“See you at lunch?” She asked hopefully. John nodded, moving just far enough away to let her pass.

“Yeah.” He said, sounding slightly dazed. “See you at lunch.”


	9. John, April 12, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So what are we doing on Saturday?” Allison asked, taking an enormous bite of one of her crazy-ass sandwiches.
> 
> “Nothing, unless you know something I don’t.” He said, looking at Allison quizzically. She rolled her eyes like he was the one acting weird.
> 
> “It’s your birthday, dickhead.” She said, taking a sip of her pixie-stick infused soda. “You’re really gonna spend it getting stoned and watching tv like you do every Saturday?” John became uncomfortably aware of the four pairs of eyes now fixed on him.

“So what are we doing on Saturday?” Allison asked, taking an enormous bite of one of her crazy-ass sandwiches. She’d brought Coco Puffs instead of Cap’n Crunch today and just thinking about that taste combination made John’s stomach turn. Somehow, the five of them eating lunch together had become a regular thing over the past few weeks. John had initially tried to avoid these meetings, not particularly excited to sit and watch other people eat when he couldn’t but Claire could be pretty fucking persuasive. And coincidentally, she always seemed to bring extra food that she needed his help finishing. John wasn’t sure if he found that sweet or annoying, probably a combination of the two. 

“Nothing, unless you know something I don’t.” He said, looking at Allison quizzically. She rolled her eyes like he was the one acting weird.

“It’s your birthday, dickhead.” She said, taking a sip of her pixie-stick infused soda _. _ “You’re really gonna spend it getting stoned and watching tv like you do every Saturday?” John became uncomfortably aware of the four pairs of eyes now fixed on him.

“Your birthday’s on Saturday?” Andy asked through a mouthful of bologna sandwich. Claire frowned at John, her lush lower lip sticking out in a pout.

“How come you told Allison and you didn’t tell me?” She asked with what sounded like disappointment.

“I didn’t.” John said, staring at Allison suspiciously. “How did you-?” His eyes widened in realization and he fumbled in his pocket where he usually kept his wallet only to come up empty handed. John turned to glare at Allison.

“Goddamn it, Basketcase! Stop taking my shit!” Grinning broadly, the dark-haired girl held up his missing wallet.

“Then stop making it so easy.” She said with a smirk, tossing it over to him. “Nice assortment of condoms by the way. I didn’t know they made cherry flavored ones.” Brian, traitor that he was, choked on his milk and made a piss-poor attempt at hiding his laughter. John glared at him and made a mental note to kick the dweeb’s ass later.

“Why don’t you ever steal from Queenie over here?” He asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject, gesturing to his left where Claire was again eating her weird fish thing. “Her shit is actually worth something.”

“Hey!” Claire snapped but she didn’t say anything about Allison’s earlier comment so John counted that as a win. 

“Don’t give her ideas.” Andy said but he sounded disgustingly fond. He may as well have had cartoon hearts floating around over his head the way he was looking at the nutcase. Not that John could talk. 

“It’s the big one seven.” Allison said, looking far too pleased with herself. “You ought to celebrate!” 

“We would have planned something if you told us.” Brian added, looking suitably ashamed about his earlier laughing fit. John was still planning on kicking his ass.

“Yeah man, what’s with the secrecy?” Andy asked. Clearly, they aren’t going to let the matter drop. Just fucking perfect.

“Look, as hard as this may be to believe,” John said through gritted teeth. “Birthdays aren’t exactly a big fucking deal at the ol’ Bender household.” That certainly killed the, until then, light hearted mood. Any mention of John’s home life tended to have that effect. 

_ Nice going there, asshole.  _ A mean little voice in John’s head whispered. He scowled and shook his head as if that would make the voice shut up. As usual, it had no affect. 

“I need a fucking smoke.” He muttered, pushing his chair back and walking towards the cafeteria doors as fast as his legs would carry him. He was vaguely aware of the other’s calling his name but he tuned them out. His hands were shaking ever so slightly and John knew that if he didn’t do something to calm down he would spiral into a full blown “episode”. From time to time something would set him off and he would spiral until he was a shaking, sobbing mess. It fucking sucked. Basketcase had witnessed one of those episodes once, much to John’s embarrassment. Once he’d stopped shaking and gasping for air she’d called it a “panic attack”, and said she got them too. John wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. 

Despite his racing heart John was able to climb the bleachers and light up a smoke. The first hit of nicotine acted as a balm to his frayed nerves just as he had hoped it would. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke fade away into nothing. Birthdays sucked for him, plain and simple. The last birthday present John remembered receiving from either of his parents was a can of beer. He had just turned ten, which, according to his dad, meant he was old enough to drink. The old man had been in a surprisingly good mood that day and he smiled as he shoved the can into John’s hand and demanded that he “drink up.” John had been pretty familiar with the effects of alcohol at that point. When his dad drank, he got mean, meaner than usual anyways, and everyone around him paid the price. If that was what drinking meant John wanted no part of it. So, unthinkingly, he told his dad he didn’t want any beer. That had been a mistake, one John spent the rest of the night regretting. He shuddered at the memory, the scars on his back throbbing.

“Hey.” A familiar voice pulled John out of his thoughts. He turned to see Claire standing next to the bleachers, a concerned expression on her face. She was shivering slightly in the still cold air, having apparently left her jacket behind in her rush to follow him.

“Hey.” John replied dully, taking another drag from his cigarette. He really didn't want to deal with the conversation she was clearly angling for but he didn't have the energy to get into a fight about it. Claire gestured at the space beside him. 

“Can I sit?”

“It’s a free country.” Pursing those perfect lips, she walked over and took a seat, wincing slightly at the chill of the metal bench. Wordlessly, John shrugged out of his too-big wool coat and draped it over her shoulders. Claire looked like she wanted to protest but she eventually seemed to give in, pulling the material tighter around her. 

“Brian told me to give you this.” She said, holding out a saran wrapped sandwich. “Said he doesn’t like tuna fish.” It was a lie, John knew, and ordinarily he’d be pissed at the thought of anyone pitying him. But he was feeling sorry for himself and he really was hungry so he begrudgingly accepted the offering.

“He couldn’t come give it to me himself?” John asked through a mouthful of tuna fish. Claire wrinkled her nose at his eating habits but didn't otherwise comment. 

“Yeah right.” She said with a laugh. “Poor Brian wasn’t looking to get beat up.” John couldn’t argue with that so he settled for taking another bite of the sandwich. They sat in relative silence for a while, John eating and Claire examining her nails. 

“Allison says sorry by the way.” She said at last, breaking the silence. “I think she was actually trying to do something nice, in her weird Allison kind of way.” John snorted in obvious disbelief.

“Yeah, how do you figure?” Claire gave him a measured look.

“You know her parents have forgotten her birthday three years running?” John had not known that but, given what he knew about Basketcase’s home life, he couldn’t say he was surprised. Their little club really hit the jackpot on shitty parents. 

“The point is, she cares.” Claire continued, scooting closer to John until she was pressed against his side. “We all care. So if you don’t want us to bring it up ever again we won’t.” She turned slightly so that she could look him in the eye. “But I wish you would let us do something, you know like a party. Because we want to do that for you. You deserve to have at least one birthday that isn’t complete and utter shit.”

That startled a laugh out of John. He had to hand it to Claire, she wasn’t one to mince words. He liked that about her, liked that even though she could be a grade-A bitch at times he could always trust her to speak her mind when it really counted. So he knew she really meant it when she said she cared. The idea made something in his chest ache. 

“Fine.” John said at last. “But there’d better not be any singing.”


	10. Claire, April 14, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire knew going in that the whole birthday party situation needed to be handled delicately. John hadn’t outright told her why birthdays were an issue for him but she could make an educated guess. It tugged at something in Claire’s heart every time she was reminded of how sad, hurting, and alone John must have been as a child. But he had friends now; real friends he could let his guard down with. And Claire so genuinely wanted to make him happy.

Claire knew going in that the whole birthday party situation needed to be handled delicately. John hadn’t outright told her why birthdays were an issue for him but she could make an educated guess. It tugged at something in Claire’s heart every time she was reminded of how sad, hurting, and alone John must have been as a child. But he had friends now; real friends he could let his guard down with. And Claire so genuinely wanted to make him happy. 

After a hasty meeting on Friday with the other members of the Breakfast Club, sans John of course, a plan was decided upon. They each left with their respective tasks and planned to meet up at Claire’s on Saturday night. Her parents, luckily enough, were out of town for the weekend which left her with the house to herself. 

John, unsurprisingly, was the last to show up on Saturday night. Claire didn’t mind; it gave the rest of them time to get everything together. Just as she was grabbing a stack of plates from the cabinet she heard five quick knocks sound from the front hallway. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she hurried over and opened the door. John stood on the front step looking decidedly uncomfortable, his shoulders tensed and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

“Is it too late to back out?” He asked. Claire couldn’t quite tell if he was joking. Rolling her eyes, she pulled him inside.

“You’ll be fine.” She said, leaning forward to give him a kiss hello. “No one’s going to jump out and yell surprise or anything.” The very idea seemed to make John want to turn around and run out the door. Claire put a firm hand on his arm and steered him in the direction of her basement where the rest of the group was waiting. 

“So you actually got him to show up.” Allison said with mock surprise as they walked into the den. She had just finished blowing up the last balloon, which she added to the assortment filling the room. They were black, which gave the whole space a vaguely, funeral-like feel. John looked around skeptically.

“Balloons?” He asked, lightly flicking one and watching it bounce back. “Really?”

“It was a compromise.” Claire sighed, shooting Allison a look. They’d had some disagreements about decorating but it turned out Allison could be extremely stubborn and Claire had eventually caved. Surprisingly, John didn’t seem to hate the decorations as much as she’d expected. If anything he looked sort of amused. 

“Wait until you see the cake.” Andy added from where he sat on the couch, cracking open a beer he had grabbed from Claire’s fridge. She didn’t care; it wasn’t like her parents would notice. 

“There’s cake?” John asked, a horrified expression on his face. He turned to Allison warily. “Please tell me you didn’t make it.” She flipped him off good-naturedly, and went to sit beside Andy.

“Brian baked it.” She reassured him. “I just did the decorating.” As if on cue, Brian came downstairs, balancing the aforementioned cake on a baking sheet in front of him. 

“Since when do you bake?” John asked, one eyebrow raised. The shorter boy blushed as he set the item down on the coffee table.

“I don’t really,” He admitted bashfully. “I used a boxed mix. Besides, the frosting is the important part.” Again, that had been Allison’s idea. Rather than something normal like “Happy Birthday” or even just the number 17 the cake bore the message “Congrats on aging, asshole” in large, black letters. This was surrounded by an assortment of crude images which Allison had painstakingly piped on earlier that evening. John, thankfully, burst out laughing the second he saw it. 

“Fuck, that’s incredible.” He said through his laughter. “Nice attention to detail, Basketcase.” Allison grinned widely, snuggling into Andy’s side. 

“We have to wait to cut it.” Claire reminded them. “We just ordered a pizza, well,” she gave Andy a knowing look. “More like a  _ stack _ of pizzas.” She turned to John with a slightly sheepish expression on her face. “I knew you’d hate candles so…” She slyly reached into her pocket and pulled out a tightly wrapped plastic bag. “How about we light this up instead?” John’s jaw dropped as he looked between her and the bag she was holding. 

“Dope.” He said incredulously. “Where the fuck did you get dope?” Claire shrugged as casually as possible. 

“That’s for me to know.” She said primly. In reality, she’d bought it off of one of John’s burnout friends that past Friday. She’d been nervous as hell the whole time and she’d most definitely overpaid for the little bag but that didn’t matter, not if it made John happy. 

“So how about it?” Claire said, waving the bag back and forth teasingly. “Andy rented a bunch of those dumb action movies you like and pizzas are on the way.” John grinned at her, that wide, real smile that never failed to make her heart skip a beat.

“Wanna give rolling a joint another try?” He asked, pulling rolling paper and a pack of matches from his coat pocket. 

  
  


A few hours later they were all sprawled out on the couch and floor, pleasantly buzzed and stuffed full of pizza and cake. John looked more relaxed than Claire had ever seen him. He’d even rolled up his sleeves to the elbow, something he never did due to the scar on his forearm. It made Claire’s heart hurt seeing the scar exposed now, when she knew exactly how John got it.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Andy said, somewhat sleepily. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two tickets which he held out to John. “From all of us. Happy birthday, dickhead.” Looking confused, John took the tickets and examined them for a moment before his eyes widened and his jaw fell open in understanding.

“No fucking way!” He said with complete disbelief. “These have been sold out for weeks! How the fuck did you -?”

“I spoke to your friend Ste.” Claire explained with a hesitant smile. She actually quite liked Ste, they’d spoken a few times since he snuck her and John into the movies and he was a genuinely sweet guy. “He mentioned that you guys had been talking about the Metallica show but hadn’t been able to get tickets.”

“So I talked to Stubby.” Andy added. Steward “Stubby” Marshall was Shermer High School’s resident ticketmaster, hence the nickname. If you wanted tickets to any event in the tristate area, chances were Stubby would be able to get them for you. “We go way back so he gave me a discount.”

“And we all chipped it.” Allison interjected. They all knew that John was touchy about money and receiving something big and extravagant would have made him uncomfortable. But between Stubby’s discount and splitting the cost four ways the tickets hadn’t been all that expensive. 

John looked genuinely delighted, grinning like a kid in a candy store as he looked at the tickets.

“Fuck.” He said quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. “This is so fucking awesome.” Claire felt the rest of the group breathe a collective sigh of relief. They had been pretty sure John would like the gift but you never really knew how he would react. 

“Happy Birthday.” Brian said with a pleased grin. 

By one in the morning Allison, Andy, and Brian were out cold. Claire was feeling pretty sleepy herself, curled up as she was in John’s lap. He too looked like he was fighting against sleep.

“You can bring Ste along if you want.” Claire said, nodding her head at the extra ticket which lay on the table. “Or one of your other friends. Or,” she had to fight back a blush, forcing the words out. “Or I could go.” John looked at her with clear surprise. 

“You hate that kind of crap.” He said bluntly. He wasn’t wrong; Claire didn’t quite understand the appeal of the loud, atonal music John and his friends listened too. In fact, she’d once likened the sound to cats being strangled. 

“But you don’t.” Claire said simply. Before he could make fun of her for being sappy she stood up and started walking towards the stairs. 

“I have one other present for you.” She called over her shoulder. “It’s up in my room if you want to come up.” John was on his feet in a matter of seconds.

“Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?” He asked teasingly, making his way over to her. Claire blushed deeply, smacking him on the arm.

“Nothing like that you pervert.” She said as she led them upstairs. “I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone else.” They walked down the hall in slightly tense silence.

“You didn’t have to get me anything you know.” John said at last, rubbing the back of his neck. He did that when he was uncomfortable, a habit Claire had picked up on over the last few weeks.

“Of course I did.” Claire said with a dismissive wave of her hand. At last they came to a stop outside her bedroom door. Honestly, the idea of having any boy in her room made Claire a little nervous. When her friends came over to her house they mostly hung out downstairs in the den or in the basement. Bringing John here, even for a perfectly innocent reason, felt somehow more intimate than letting him get a hand under her shirt. Claire just hoped he wouldn’t be a dick about it. Shaking her head to rid herself of that visual, she pushed open the door and walked inside.

“Woah!” John said, trailing in behind her. He turned in a circle as if trying to take it all in. Claire was very grateful she had the foresight to hide her old teddy bear in her dresser.

“What?” Claire asked defensively as she pulled the door shut and walked over to her closet. “You got a problem with my room?” John gave her his most innocent expression.

“It’s a lot of pink.” He said simply, walking over to her dressing table and seemingly investigating her various perfumes and serums. Claire rolled her eyes; that was about as diplomatic a response as she could have expected. He wasn’t wrong, there was a lot of pink in here from the walls to her bedspread to her rug. John looked decidedly out of place standing there in his scuffed combat boots and torn jeans. 

“Here.” She said, thrusting a neatly wrapped package at him before she could chicken out. “Happy Birthday.” Trying to contain her anxiety, Claire watched as John tore the wrapping paper and revealed the item beneath, a soft, undeniably expensive leather jacket. He looked at it with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Jesus, Claire.” He said at last, running his thumb lightly over the collar.

“I wasn’t sure if you were serious about Grease being your favorite movie.” Claire said, feeling extremely self-conscious. “But I figured even if you weren’t you might like this. And before you say anything about me spending too much money on you, I didn’t buy it. It actually used to be my brother’s.” She smiled slightly at the memory. “He went through a ‘bad-boy’ phase for a while but he was never really able to pull it off.” John didn’t say anything for a moment and Claire suddenly worried she had made a big mistake.

“I’m sorry if it’s stupid.” She mumbled, awkwardly picking at her nails. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t-.” Before she could even finish the sentence John started putting the jacket on, running his hands appreciatively down the front as he did so. Wordlessly, he walked over to her full-length mirror and surveyed his reflection. It looked good on him, far better than it had ever looked on Josh. Unlike her brother, John was actually cool enough to pull it off.

“This is fucking sick!” John said, face splitting into a wide smile. He turned slightly from side to side, to see the full effect. “Ste and Eddie are gonna shit a brick when they see me on Monday.” 

“You like it?” Claire asked tentatively. Before she could say another word John crossed over to her and wrapped her in an embrace, kissing her with the same amount of passion as he had that day in the closet. Just as she had then, Claire melted against him, her hands reaching up to grab hold of his too-long hair. Unfortunately, a few moments later John pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

“Yeah.” He said, his voice surprisingly sincere. His brown eyes seemed to see straight into her soul. “Of course I fucking like it. I just can’t believe you did all this shit for me.”

“I wanted to.” Claire said honestly, reaching out a lightly brushing her fingers against his cheek. “I wanted to make you happy.”

“You did.” John said, leaning in so that his lips nearly touched hers. “You do.” And then they were kissing again, deep and hungry. Claire’s thoughts were still a little fuzzy from the pot but she didn’t care. She pulled John tight against her, her fingers digging into his leather-covered shoulders. One of his still gloved hands cupped the back of her head and the other settled on her hip. He was so warm and his mouth tasted faintly of icing and smoke. They kissed for what could have been hours but was probably closer to a few minutes. Claire didn’t think she would ever get tired of kissing John like this, of feeling the hard planes of his body pressed against her. And that was a dangerous thought.

“We should go to bed.” She said suddenly, pulling ever so slightly away. John raised an eyebrow at her, his lips slightly swollen from kissing. It was all Claire could do not to bring their lips back together.

“Just to sleep.” She clarified hastily, her cheeks hot. “It’s late and I’m exhausted.” She didn’t know what had possessed her to make the suggestion. It was shockingly unlike her, but, then again, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. As John once said, being bad could feel pretty good.

“Aha!” He said, a mischievous grin on his face. “So this was all part of your elaborate plan to get me into your bed.” Claire gave him an unimpressed look and began gathering her pajamas from the dresser. 

“You’re welcome to go sleep in the basement with the others.” She said haughtily. “But I figured I’d at least offer.”

“You’re serious.” John said hesitantly. To Claire’s relief he also seemed a bit nervous. She wasn’t sure why, god knows he had no reason to be, but the thought reassured her nonetheless. 

“Just keep your hands to yourself.” She said, heading towards her en-suite. “My brother’s room is next door if you want to go grab a pair of sweatpants or something.”

“I usually just sleep in my boxers.” He said in what was undeniably a challenge. That was not a mental image Claire was prepared to deal with, not right then anyways.

“Well you aren’t tonight.” She called over her shoulder before she walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

  
  


“How fucking tall is your brother?” John asked sullenly when she at last returned, decked out in her matching pink pajamas. Claire had to stop herself from laughing hysterically at the scene before her. While Josh’s high school jacket fit John well enough, the two of them were no longer even remotely the same size. John wasn’t short by any means but he had nothing on Josh’s 6”7, 230 pound frame. He was indeed wearing a pair of Josh’s sweatpants but he had to roll the waistband up quite a few times to keep them from falling down. He’d also rolled up the cuffs to keep them from dragging on the floor. It was an undeniably funny image.

“Don’t you laugh!” John snapped irritably. “You’re the one who made me do this in the first place. I could have just slept in my boxers.”

“You could also have slept in the basement.” Claire said pointedly, walking over to her bed and sitting down on one side. “Yet here you are.”

“What happened to you being nice to me?” John grumbled sitting down on the opposite side of the bed and shutting off the bedside light. Even in the dark Claire saw how uncomfortable he looked.

“Are you okay?” She asked him bluntly as she slid beneath the covers. “I didn’t think you’d have a problem with this but -.”

“There’s no problem.” John interrupted. He tossed his new jacket on the floor and quickly lay down beside her. “Who said there was a problem?” Claire turned on her side so she could face him, an amused expression on her face.

“Well I didn’t want to make assumptions but we have made out pretty much all over school so I figured we were at sleeping in the same bed level.” John might have blushed at that but it was too dark to know for sure.

“Do we have to talk about this?” He asked, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape with a tad more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. His shoulders were still tight with tension. 

“I’m not trying to freak you out or anything.” Claire said. “I don’t know why I even suggested this.” 

“Well if you’re having second thoughts…” John said, moving to get out of bed. Claire quickly reached out and laid her hand on his arm, halting his progress. 

“Look, John I like you.” She said honestly “A lot. I thought that was pretty obvious. Why would I not want to sleep with you?” As embarrassing as it was, her confession seemed to have the desired effect. John lay back down and Claire thought she saw him grinning slightly. 

“Do you really have to say it like that?” He asked suggestively. Claire lightly smacked him on the arm.

“Be serious for five seconds, alright? I want you to stay here. With me.” 

“I know.” John said, turning on his side to face her. “I’m just not really used to this.”

“The falling asleep next to a girl part?” Claire asked incredulously. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well no, more the not having wild sex beforehand part.” Claire’s brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled in distaste. 

“Jesus, John! Ugh!” John looked thoroughly amused by her reaction.

“Oh, excuse the fuck out of me!” He said, smiling widely now. “You’ve had my tongue in your mouth but I can’t say the word sex in front of you?”

“Not when you’re talking about other girls you can’t.” Claire said angrily. She quickly realized how that might have come across and quickly clarified her point. “I’m not judging you or anything but it’s not the kind of thing I want to talk about when we’re in bed together.” John gave her a knowing look.

“Jealous?” She was but she hadn’t planned on John figuring that out. 

“Look, just go to sleep alright.” Claire muttered, pulling the covers up over her chest. John made no move to do the same.

“Are you planning on staying all the way over there?” He asked with badly disguised disappointment. Claire grinned at him.

“John Bender, do you want to cuddle?” She asked gleefully. John glared at her, arms crossed over his chest. 

“What’s the point of being in the same bed if I can’t touch you?” It was a surprisingly sweet sentiment coming from him and Claire couldn’t resist scooting over and snuggling up against his side.

“I’m just teasing.” She said with a yawn. It had been a long day and she really was exhausted. John exhaled sharply before slowly encircling her with his arms and pulling her against his side. This close Claire could feel his heart beating steadily in his chest.

“Yeah, I know.” John said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Every time he did something like that it made Claire go all gooey. 

“Was it okay?” She asked sleepily, her eyelids already drooping. John was so warm and she was so comfortable that Claire honestly thought she might fall asleep there and then. “The party and everything?”

“More than.” John muttered into her hair and Claire could have melted from the relief. “Now go to sleep, it’s way past your bedtime.” With another yawn Claire snuggled closer and allowed her eyes to fall closed.

“Alright.” She murmured softly. “G’night John.”

“Night Cherry.”


	11. John, April 15, 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up next to Claire, John decided, was a revelation.

Waking up next to Claire, John decided, was a revelation. For one thing, he woke up warm which was something of a novelty. The heating system at his house was older than he was and crapped out on a regular basis even when his old man managed to pay the heating bills. It wasn’t unusual for John to wake up shivering with icicles clinging to his hair. Waking up in Claire’s giant cushy, bed felt like waking up in a warm cocoon. In addition, even though he was plagued with night terrors on a near nightly basis, John’s sleep had been blessedly peaceful. He woke up Sunday morning feeling more rested than he had in a long time. It was completely different from waking up in his own bed. And of course, the biggest difference of all was rolling over and seeing Claire curled up beside him, her head pillowed on her hand.

At some point the night before Claire had removed her makeup but it had been too dark for John to get a good look at her. Now though, lit by the morning’s first rays of sunshine, she was laid bare. John was surprised at how different Claire looked without all that gunk caked on her face. Her eyelashes, which delicately fanned over her cheeks, were lighter than he would have expected, a sort of strawberry blonde. John supposed she coated them with mascara to make them darker. Her eyebrows too were lighter than usual and there was a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. John was struck by the inexplicable urge to trace his fingers over those marks which had been hidden from him until now. He resisted the impulse, not wanting to wake Claire if he could help it.

It occurred to John that he might be the only person who got to see her like this, without her usual armor of makeup and designer clothes. She was just as beautiful without all that junk, hell, Claire would have looked beautiful wearing a trash bag. Still, the fact she was willing to make herself vulnerable in front of John spoke volumes. Claire trusted him although in John’s opinion he’d done next to nothing to earn that trust. Quite the opposite. 

_ I want to keep her. _ John realized as his gaze traced the curves of her sleeping face. Let the rest of the world have their pristine princess, he wanted this soft, sleepy version of Claire to be just his. John knew that made him seem like a possessive asshole but it was the truth. He wanted Claire, really wanted her not as a fuck or as a casual fling but as something different. Something more.

Claire stirred slightly in her sleep, drawing John out of his thoughts. 

“Time is it?” She asked sleepily, her eyes barely open. John couldn’t stop the fond smile from spreading across his face as he took in her confused expression. She sort of looked like a hedgehog with her hair sticking up the way it was. A tired, grumpy hedgehog.

“It’s still early.” He reassured her. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Mkay.” Claire mumbled, burrowing deeper into her pillow. Just as John was contemplating getting up and raiding the kitchen for coffee she scooted over so she could curl up against his side. Her body was sleep-warm against him and the bare skin of her arms was soft to the touch.

“I like this.” She said quietly, nuzzling her head into the space between his neck and shoulder. This close John could smell the faint strawberry scent of her hair. 

“Oh yeah?” John asked. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

“Yeah.” Claire said. “I like waking up next to you.” 


End file.
